


To watch over the living

by Shiba_K



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, spoilers for Face the Raven and Heaven Sent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 22:16:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5350421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiba_K/pseuds/Shiba_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After facing the raven, Clara briefly reunites with her mother before taking on the role of the dead: to watch over the living.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To watch over the living

**Author's Note:**

> The plotbunnies attacked me. I never stood a chance.

Clara Oswald remembers dying. Clara Oswald remembers the searing pain that had penetrated every cell in her body when the raven had hit her. Clara Oswald remembers blowing away like smoke. 

She also remembers the old playground where her mom used to take her on Saturday’s, the dark metal fence, the picnic tables, the rusty red swings and the creaking merry-go-round that was always slightly tilted. Her first lesson in physics had taken place on that very same merry-go-round, discovering that while spinning fast was fun, there were forces that tried to push you off. And the faster one went, the stronger they got. It had ended with a scraped knee and her mom consoling her with a gentle smile and a kiss. 

Her fingers trace the chipped paint of the swing set, feeling it rub off on her skin, the tangy odor of metal assaulting her nose. She breathes in deeply, the memories of bygone days easing the ache inside her. She is seeing everything through the haze of childhood memoirs, making things look weird, too small, while she is too tall. 

Turning, Clara spots a figure sitting at one of the tables. 

At first she doesn’t believe quite what she is seeing, only to break into a run when she realizes that the person is in actuality real. 

Ellie Oswald stands up and holds her arms wide open as her daughter runs to her, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

‘Mom!!’ Her yell is carried away by the wind, ruffling the leaves of the nearby trees. 

Clara almost knocks her mother off her feet when she hugs her, but the older woman manages to catch her and holds her tight, gripping the cotton fabric of Clara’s shirt. Ellie strokes her hair, murmuring soothing words into Clara’s ears that only make her cry harder because it has been so long since she has heard her mother’s voice, felt her loving embrace. 

She weeps not only for the happiness of being able to touch her mother again, but for the Doctor too, for having left him alone, for hurting him, for dying.

Mother and daughter cling to each other for a long time, until finally Clara’s tears run dry and she feels drained and exhausted. Ellie guides her daughter to sit on the bench she had previously occupied, wiping away the tear tracks from Clara’s cheeks and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She takes a minute to simply gaze at her, her own eyes stinging with fresh tears. 

‘Oh, my sweet little Clara, you’ve grown into such a beautiful woman.’ 

‘Oh god, mom, I’ve missed you so much.’ Clara’s voice is shaky, thick with emotions. 

‘I know, Clara, I know. I’ve missed you too. And I’m so sorry for having left you and your dad.’ Ellie’s voice breaks then and Clara lets out a little whimper, quickly seeking her mother’s arms again. Sniffling, she breathes in Ellie’s scent, fresh roses and the unmistakable smell of baking. 

This time, it’s Clara who pulls back, clasping her mother’s hands in hers. 

‘Mom, there is so much I have to tell you,’ she starts, but is interrupted. 

‘There is no need to, sweetheart, I already know everything.’ 

Clara stares confused at her, and Ellie gives her the knowing smiles only a mother can make. It’s wise and hints at knowledge of all the secrets the universe holds, but Clara knows that’s ridiculous because even the Doctor doesn’t know all its mysteries. 

‘I’ve always been right here,’ Ellie extricates one of her hands from Clara’s and points at her heart. Clara can’t help but laugh. She folds her right hand over her heart, feeling nothing, no beat. That stops her. Suddenly it becomes a little bit more real that she has, in fact, died. That the reason she is able to speak to her mother in the first place is because she is no longer in the land of the living, but instead in a kind of afterlife. Or perhaps the Nethersphere. She is not sure.

She feels that hand holding hers tightening. 

‘Clara, just because we have passed on doesn’t mean we cease to exist. Nor do we abandon our loved ones. The dead watch over the world of the living, and sometimes, if we are lucky enough, we find someone who can see us.’ 

Ellie’s words push Clara’s thoughts in the direction of the Doctor. She wonders where he is, what is happening to him, if he is safe. 

When she focuses back on her mother, Clara sees a very familiar expression, one she has seen numerous times in the mirror, one the Doctor always complained about, and that lately had sparked more than one hug between them. It’s a smile, but it’s a sad smile, and it breaks her heart to see it reflected so clearly on Ellie’s features. The Doctor would probably have a fit if he knew it was a trait that ran in the family.

‘He is going to need you, Clara, that Doctor of yours. Now more than ever.’ 

And Clara is torn. She balks at the idea of leaving her mother again after so many years. Yet… according to her mother, the Doctor needs her. Her very soul calls out to him then, reacting to that instinct that has always been inside her: protect the Doctor. 

‘You are the Impossible Girl. Are you really going to let death separate you from him?’ 

Clara gazed silently at her, but she knew. The decision had been made even before she was aware she had to make one. It was her turn then to smile sadly. 

‘I’m proud of you, Clara, and I will always be, no matter what happens, never stop believing that.’ Ellie cups Clara’s cheek while she speaks. ‘Now go and help him.’

‘I’m sorry, mom, I’m so sorry. I wish I could stay with you longer. I…’ Clara flings her arms around her mother for what she knows is the last time. She hates herself for saying goodbye to another person she loves so shortly after the Doctor. Ellie hugs her back, softly chiding her daughter. ‘Don’t ever apologize for wanting to be with the person you love, sweetheart. I would be a very bad mother if I didn’t want to see my daughter happy.’

They share a watery laugh, but soon it’s time. 

‘Go to him, Clara,’ her mother encourages her, gazing into her chocolate brown eyes. 

‘How?’ Clara stares back worriedly. 

‘Focus on him, on your connection. You’ll find him wherever he is.’

Clara closes her eyes, her mind emptying itself except for thoughts of the Doctor. 

‘When he falls down, pick him back up. When he gives up, force him to fight on. When he is lost, find him.’

Ellie’s voice echoes inside her head, and Clara concentrates hard on the image of the Doctor as she last saw him. 

_Doctor!_

The playground around her fades away, the wooden bench beneath her disappears, and her mother’s warm touch soon becomes nothing more than a ghost. Clara is floating around in pure darkness, and for a minute she panics. There is no way to tell which side is up, which side is down until a flicker of light calms her. In the corner of her eye, she sees a blue circle of light with an orange center shine, followed by another and another. She recognizes them immediately: the round things in the TARDIS. 

Slowly the whole control room comes alive around her, though there is no trace of the Doctor. She is standing on the upper level next to one of the blackboards. There is a piece of chalk on the floor next to it and she bends to pick it up. It’s in that moment that she hears his voice, distant and unclear. She can’t make the words out, but she senses his anger. 

‘Doctor!’ She calls out to him, but he doesn’t hear her. 

Still holding the chalk, Clara walks to the stairs, sitting down on the top step. The position offers her a direct view of the doors. She sits and waits. The Doctor will come sooner or later. 

There is no clock to tell her how much time has passed, though it couldn’t have been very long. 

‘See, Clara? Still got it.’ This time his words are clear, his tone arrogant as if whatever he was doing was meant to show off. To her. 

She is inside his storm room. That’s what this version of the TARDIS is. A place where he retreats whenever he is in danger and needs to figure out how to get himself out of it, preferably while impressing her. Her job is to make him ask the right questions, to help him solve the puzzle. And when he finally does understand, she needs to get him back up on his feet. 

‘Doctor… you’re not the only person who ever lost someone. It’s the story of everybody. Get over it. _Beat it_. Break free.’ 

In a gesture that had become so familiar to them in the months before her death, Clara cups his cheek. ‘Doctor, it’s time. Get up, off your ass… and win!’

It’s when he looks at her with those mournful blue eyes of his that she comprehends what her mother had said to her about sometimes being lucky enough to find a person who could see the dead. 

Touching her hand to his chest, where his hearts are beating, Clara tells him that she will always be there. 

She does this once, twice, a hundred times, 1.500 times, 5.000 times, 7.000 times, 12.000 times, 600.000 times, 1.200.000 times, 20.000.000 times, 52.000.000 times, nearly a billion times, well over a billion times, two billion times. 

Clara Oswald follows the Doctor to Gallifrey, watches over him from inside his storm room, never leaving.

Fin


End file.
